It Didn't Matter
by CryingRedTears
Summary: Harry's thoughts on Draco through the years. Thoughts on the start and end of their relationship. 'It didn’t matter that he loved you.' Slash. DH spoilers Read and Review! *Redone*


Disclaimer: I own not a thing.

A/N: I had this up like two years ago, but I never finished the third part so I decided to fix it up a bit and start over now that I finished all three pieces. So here you go!

It Didn't Matter

The first time he looked at you, with those eyes that clearly stated, 'I'm better then everyone', you had a bad feeling about him. Before he even opened his mouth you seemed to dislike him. When he did open it, and words shot out, you _knew_ you did not like him. You couldn't have been happier to have an excuse to get away from the boy. Much to you displeasure, your paths crossed once more. He insulted you, because you stood by your friend, the first real friend that you made. He threatened you because you had embarrassed, and rejected him.

It didn't matter that he had offered his hand in friendship.

As the year went by, your childish hate grew for one another. It became clear that you were enemies. It seemed rather fitting. Pureblood to your half blood. Gryffindor, to his Slytherin. You were complete opposites, from the beginning. When you made to practice one day, along with your team, you had strong distaste to see the Slytherins. That was nothing in comparison to how you felt, when you caught sight of the small blond boy. Your friends had to get in the middle of everything, instead of minding their own business. However, you didn't see it that way. It was beyond you how he had made the team, but when the brooms were brought up, it seemed clear. Insults were traded. She accused him of buying his way, and he defended himself. You knew he didn't disserve to be playing. To you it was clear that his money had got him the same position as you. Not a _chance_ that he could compare to you.

It didn't matter that he had gotten on the team because of talent.

Then the idiot had to go ruin your friend's lesson, the following year. For you, he got what he had coming to him, his nose up in the air all the time, respecting no one. Served him right. Once you had ridden the animal, his jealousy was all too apparent. It killed him every time you excelled at what he couldn't. He had to even up with you, but couldn't seem to. When it often came down to it, you were better. Obviously this destroyed him. He showed this with every harsh word he threw at you. With every day he made your life hell, or at least tried to. So, when he insulted the animal, like he often did everyone, it was _slightly_ pleasing to see the animal attack.

It didn't matter that he had been hurt.

The following summer took a turn for the better, when your best friend's family invited you along for the World Cup. Seeing all the other fans cheer for their team, faces colored, cloths bright, was exciting. At the end of the game, everyone was wild. The thrill catching and you were just as pumped as everyone else, having gotten into the spirit of the game. It was one of those, few, blissful moments. Till everything came crashing down. A riot of a sort had started. Masked figures tormenting people. Panic engrossed each person present. Full out chaos followed, and it was hard to say what exactly happened next. What you were sure of, was that feeling that bubbled inside you when your emerald eyes caught sight of the silver eyed boy. Sitting like nothing, he smirked down upon you three. It angered you that he could remain so unfazed, while others were suffering. It was simple really. His parents must've been out there running around behind a mask. No wonder he went unharmed. He was just as bad, mocking you and your companions. He could have been out there tormenting and torturing muggles.

It didn't matter that he _wasn't_ out there.

Quidditch was always something you enjoyed. Flying on a broom gave you a sense of freedom. Lost in just the act of flying, you could forget all else. Being a seeker just came so naturally, and you had a bit of pride, knowing your father had been one too. However, that pleasure was soon to be taken from you. All because of a sore loser. If he had just stayed away from you, things would have been fine. As though his little chant he had come up with wasn't bad enough, he had to push it. He had to knock you down, try and bring you down to his level. He came up to you with insults, ready to attack. In that moment you saw red. You snapped, as did two ginger haired boys, _older_ boys. The three of you attacked him, beating the hell out of him. He was weak and pathetic. He didn't stand a chance. All talk, but you knew he wouldn't ever be able to back it up.

It didn't matter that he had been out numbered.

Come sixth year, you found you had a strange obsession with the son of a Death Eater. You couldn't explain it, but he captured your attention, more so then usual. Thinking about it, you concluded that it was suspicion. Yeah, that's what it was. Watching him, it all started to come together. What if the Slytherin was indeed a Death Eater!? It was apparent to you, if not the others, that he was up to something, plotting. Your suspicions were proven, after returning from a trip with the Headmaster. He had his wand pointed at the old man, revealing his plan. His _task _for the Dark Lord. But he seemed not able to go through with it. He seemed to hesitate. After letting in Death Eaters, cornering the Man, he just couldn't do it. But as it turned out, he didn't have to. The potions Master, the supposed spy for the light, finished him off. Right before your eyes. Death showed itself for the third time to you since first year. They got away. To make it worst they got away. The Death Eater dragging him with him. Taking the young man who cast grief upon the school. Another follower of the Dark Lord.

It didn't matter that he had lowered his wand.

Your next year wasn't even spent at Hogwarts. It was spent on the run, trying to stay alive. Trying to destroy the Dark Lord and every piece of his soul. Not a day went by, that you didn't worry whether you would be caught, or worst, whether you'd find out someone you held dear was dead. It drove you crazy, how you were getting nowhere. How had the old Headmaster, rest his soul, expected you to be able to pull through. So many times, it just appeared hopeless. Like the war would never end. People were counting on you, a boy of seventeen. The world wasn't _fair_. And when you were so close, the horcruxes almost gone, he appeared. Followed by his two muscles, they disrupted your search, trying to stop you. Then you had to save his ass! You couldn't have just left him, even though you should've. It was beyond you, why you took his hand. Unlike you did all those years ago. He was nothing more than another enemy. His friend was the cause for the fire. You almost lost the object, because of them. Your own friends could have been injured because of the bulky Slytherin's stupidity. It was ironic that the one whose fault it was was the one that didn't escape. You friend mocked the two Slytherins. Throwing their lose in their face. You could see his pain. Pain, he knew nothing of pain. His didn't compare to yours. Like always, he couldn't measure up to you.

It didn't matter that he, too, had feelings and felt his lose.

How it happened, you weren't sure. If someone had told you years before, you would have laughed at their stupidity, or hexed them. Neither of you had spoken in over a year. Yet, when you came across him in some pub, you had to go up to him. You just couldn't leave well enough alone. Planting yourself across him, he didn't seem to know what to do. Since he didn't yell for you to leave you decided it was ok. The blond had long ago been found innocent. Did you agree with it? You weren't sure. When it came to him, you realized, you'd never been sure. After chatting a bit, he made to leave. Despite yourself, you stopped him, wanting to get together. You wouldn't allow him to say no. It was that simple moment that seemed to lead to the disturbing events, involving your old enemy. At some club, on some night, the two of you got together. Next thing you know, his _lips_ push full on your own. His tongue danced around in your mouth as, your feet stopped. For some reason, you didn't mind too terribly much. Wrapping your arms around his slim waist, you pulled him close. His slim fingers tangled in your already tousled mess of hair. There in the middle of the dance floor, was the start of something new.

It didn't matter that he was a boy.

That was it. You couldn't take it anymore. Being around him was becoming increasingly annoying. You tried to hide it, ignore it, but you could no longer stand him. Maybe it was the fact that you once hated each other. Perhaps it was all those people who told you that your love for each other was wrong. The point was _you just couldn't take it_. Things were just unbearable. Worst still, you were almost sure your boyfriend couldn't see it. Was completely unaware. You _hated_ him for it! It almost made you feel like you were the bad one, but it was the other way around, always had been. How could he not see it? Sure you tried to hide it, but if you saw it, why not he. Why couldn't he tell that they had been mistaken, thinking that your love for the other was stronger then everything. You didn't want to deal with all the junk people were saying about you. With all the junk about The Man Who Defeated the Dark Lord in a relationship with a Death Eater.

_Even though he was accused of using imperius to get you, everyday. _

You weren't going to lose anymore friends for him.

_Even though he had lost his own family for you._

That's why, you found yourself, now, while he was at work, packing, so he wouldn't know you were leaving. You were taking everything and going to the only place you could call home. The Burrow. Closing your bags, you knew this was it. It was over. Once you walked out that door, there was no turning back. Not that you would. You finally realized it was a mistake. Every second was a waste. Every kiss, every touch, every _'I love you,' _was a mistake, a regret.

It was time he realized that, as well.

Without leaving a note, or anything else, you left.

Maybe you had never loved him at all…

It didn't matter that he disserved better.

It didn't matter that he loved you.

He never mattered…

Finite

A/N:Hope you enjoyed it. Sequel will be up soon!

Plz review. It takes a moment of your life, and makes mine happy! c:


End file.
